Silencing Maneuver
by somethingsdont
Summary: Eric, Calleigh, and a very convenient handgun silencer.


A/N: Whoo, I'm on a roll. I suppose a squick warning is necessary, though if you have a problem with any form of E/C sex, why are you here in the first place? To all the others, enjoy!

* * *

It was getting late, and Calleigh was ready to call it a night.

The last few days had been particularly uneventful, both at home and around the lab. It seemed that since Eric had left a week ago – he had been invited to speak at a conference in Jacksonville – there'd been little criminal activity around Miami, almost as if some higher power retained balance in the city because He knew that Miami's finest underwater recovery expert was busy.

Work aside, Calleigh found herself missing Eric more every day, not that she had verbalized that whenever he called. He always seemed so excited about the events of his day, and she didn't want to sound needy. Besides, their relationship was barely a month old, and though they'd indulged in physical intimacy – and of course, neither could deny that they'd be emotionally intimate for years – old habits die hard, and there were still things she held to herself, a defense mechanism if anything. Especially so soon after Jake, nobody could blame her for being cautious, guarded.

Eric hadn't seemed to mind. He was always understanding about her emotional capacity, never pushed her past her comfort zone, and she couldn't express how much she appreciated that.

Thankfully, he was supposed to catch a flight back in the morning, and Calleigh couldn't wait to see him. Tonight, though, she'd have to settle down with a good book and make it through the night without him. She was about to do just that when she heard her phone ring. Her heartbeat quickened even before she checked the caller ID, because she knew who it'd be. She took a deep breath, cursing herself for reacting this way. It was irrational, her dependence. She flipped open her phone and brought it to her ear.

"Eric, hey," she greeted, trying not to sound too eager. She heard chatter in the background. "How's the party?"

"Boring," he replied. "I wish you were here so I could show you off."

She smiled, feeling inexplicably better just being able to talk to him. "There's an ulterior motive if I ever heard one," she shot back.

He laughed. "Nah, if you were here, we would've missed the party," he said suggestively.

"Really?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "And what do you suppose we would be doing to occupy the time?"

"I'd have you pinned against a wall," he replied, his voice throaty.

She shivered silently, feeling heat at her core. She closed her eyes, almost able to visualize him there, moving against her. "And then?" she asked shamelessly.

He hesitated, but she could hear his breathing quicken. "Calleigh, I'm in public," he said discreetly.

She sighed in frustration. "I wish you were here," she finally admitted.

He chuckled. "I miss you so much," he breathed. "This week has been torture without you."

She bit her lip, feeling guilty for guarding her feelings so close. She'd always admired that about him; his fearlessness when it came to displaying his emotions. She needed to expend little effort to read him, and she knew that spoke more about his openness than her perception skills.

When she didn't reply, he cleared his throat. "Listen, Cal, I'm being summoned away. I'll, uh, I'll see you in the morning?"

"Eric." She paused. "I miss you," she whispered.

He chuckled lightly. "I know. I'm thinking of you, okay?"

She smiled. "Later, Eric."

She closed her phone and set it down. She stared at it for a moment, then headed to bed again, this time really intent on sleeping the night away. She wanted the morning to be now, so that she'd be able to see him again. She lay down, hoping sleep would come quickly.

Two hours later, she came to the obvious realization that sleep would not come quickly. Her mind was racing too much, and she recalled over and over her conversation with Eric. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him there, kissing her, touching her, trailing blazes across her skin, and those thoughts kept her wide awake. She sat up in bed, aroused. Sleep was evading her, and she was either going to take a really cold shower or…

Her eyes flickered to her nightstand. Her gun, still in its holster, sat there motionlessly, and in a moment of sheer madness, she pictured herself in a compromising position, gun between her legs. It shocked her, but more than that, she felt the desire rise. She thought of Eric again and shook her head. The idea was insane, pure and simple.

She lay down again, but this time, she couldn't get the notion out of her head, and when she closed her eyes, she still saw Eric, but this time, he was using the handgun to—

_Oh, God_.

She shot up again, and as if in a trance, she reached over and pulled the gun out of the holster. She ran her fingertip along it, her heartbeat quickening. She turned it around slowly in her hands before detaching the magazine. She placed the mag, cartridges and all, down on her dresser, and checked the safety. For good measure, she tested the trigger, but it wouldn't budge. Good. She stared at the gun for a moment, analyzing it, and she briefly wondered what the fuck she was doing. That thought, however, was suppressed by a more primal need, and it went unnoticed.

She traced her fingertip along the muzzle and frowned. It was nearly rectangular and that… wouldn't work. She stood up, handgun gripped tightly, and walked over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and rummaged around until she came up with a cylindrical suppressor. She bit her lip.

It was clean, she reasoned to herself, although she wasn't sure how safe the act would be. She attached the suppressor to the end of her handgun and stood frozen in place. She couldn't believe that she was really about to do this. She'd never been afraid to try new things, but this was different, somehow thrilling and dangerous. Forbidden.

Tentatively, she removed her clothes and lay down on the bed, finding a comfortable position on her back. Slowly, she touched the silencer to her clit and nearly jumped. It felt cold against her skin, but she did it again. A little better. She took a deep breath and ran it up and down a few times, lightly grazing, experimenting. To her surprise, it felt great, though she couldn't tell if it was actually the silencer or just her pre-existing arousal.

She readied herself and pushed the tip of the silencer in, shuddering hard. It was good, amazing, and without realizing it, she began moving it deeper and deeper, until the end of the barrel grazed her clit and she moaned. She did it again, closed her eyes and concentrated on the tiny tremors that reverberated across her body.

Suddenly, she froze mid-thrust. Through the haze of pleasure, she could hear someone. Her eyes snapped open.

Eric was standing in the doorway, eyes the size of grapefruit. How she hadn't heard her front door open, she didn't know. How she hadn't heard his footsteps, that escaped her as well, but he was there, and she was—

_Holy shit_.

Calleigh gasped and pulled the gun away, her heart pounding. She sat up and gathered up the covers around herself. Embarrassed didn't begin to cover what she was feeling. She was pretty sure that if the gun was loaded, one of them would be in a pool of blood right now, maybe both.

"Eric," she croaked.

Eric took a step toward her, then another, his mouth hanging open. He tried to say her name but it came out an unintelligible gurgle.

"Eric, I thought—" She swallowed hard. "I thought you weren't going to be back until tomorrow."

He tried to tell her about his spontaneous decision to jump on the first flight he could catch, but he found that he was unable to form a coherent sentence so he shook his head and continued approaching the bed.

Calleigh was still breathing hard when Eric finally reached her. She looked panicked, even as he leaned down to kiss her softly. She tilted her head to grant him access, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips. She moaned, the aftereffects of her little adventure with her silencer still resonating through her body. But that had been nothing like what Eric was doing to her now, his fingers trailing long paths down her naked body. She moved aside to allow him to climb into bed, and when he did, he lay on his side for a moment, just looking at her lying there on her back, cheeks flushed, breasts peeking out from under the covers.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she whispered.

He smiled, pushing the covers aside to expose more pale skin. He leaned down to kiss her shoulder. "Why not?" he murmured, his fingers finding the handgun in her hand.

She made a sound of objection and pulled the gun out of his reach.

"Calleigh," he pleaded.

She shook her head and leaned over the bed to place the gun on the floor before returning her attention to the eager Cuban in front of her. She moved her hands to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, then pushed those intrusive garments off his body.

Even as she leaned in to kiss his chest, she was conflicted. "Eric, you weren't supposed to see that," she repeated, palms against his bare torso almost in protest.

He grinned impishly and climbed over her, the covers separating their bodies. He kissed her slowly, the arousal threatening to cause him to pass out. "I knew you were into guns, but—"

She swatted at him with mock admonition, and her skin heated up. She recovered quickly. "Too bad you caught me like you did," she quipped, her voice low and suggestive. "I was thinking of letting you try."

He gaped at her, a million mental images running through his head, but he imagined none of them came close to the real thing. "Give me the gun," he said convincingly, his hand already reaching for it on the floor.

She reacted, gripping his wrist to stop him. "Eric," she protested, swallowing hard in an attempt to gather her thoughts, "don't you dare."

"Why not?" he teased, touching his nose to hers. "Sounded like you were enjoying it a minute ago," he added, his voice low in his throat. He grinned and brushed his lips across hers. "How many other naughty things do you do when I'm not around?"

Her cheeks flushed immediately."I don't—I'm not—" she stuttered, a new wave of embarrassment washing over her. She damned this man for getting her so flustered; nobody else had that power over her. Not that she was going to admit any of that to him or even really to herself, but she felt it, the control slipping away piece by piece. She had grown to crave it on occasion. Submission. The implicit trust that poured into their lovemaking was something she'd never experienced before, and she couldn't imagine it any other way. "I've never tried this before," she murmured hesitantly, her eyes closing.

"I just want to make you feel amazing, Cal," he whispered, planting three gentle kisses on her lips.

She nodded, and he understood the implication that it was acceptable to continue, so he pushed himself up enough to unbuckle his belt and remove his pants. He was already hard as a rock, but that could wait. He flexed his back muscles and made a short detour to the side of the bed, where he found the gun, silencer and all. He picked it up and climbed back into bed, pushing the comforter aside to reveal the rest of her naked body.

His heart caught in his throat, because he still couldn't believe how beautiful she truly was. His eyes travelled the length of her body, admiring every inch before finally coming to rest on her face. She was staring back at him with those green eyes, now clouded with desire, enflamed with passion, and he couldn't help but lean in to kiss her, his lips sucking gently on hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth to taste her. He pinched a nipple between his fingertips and she moaned into his mouth, back arching for more. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, feeling dizzy but knowing one thing definitively.

"I love you," he whispered to her for the first time.

"I love you, too," she murmured back without hesitation, meaning it with everything she had.

He smiled and kissed her one more time before moving south and positioning himself between her legs. He ran the tip of the silencer slowly along her inner thigh, liking the way she shivered slightly in response. The silencer was still moist to the touch, and Eric grunted in anticipation of what was to come. He could barely contain himself. As if seven days away from Calleigh hadn't been enough to cause more than a little discomfort down there, he'd found her like this, flushed and ready. And after he'd overcome the initial disbelief, he was finding the whole thing incredibly hot, and he sure wasn't about to waste his chance.

"You like that?" he murmured, teasing her entrance with the tip of the silencer, watching in amusement and desire as she tried not to instinctively arch her back. He loved it when she tried to hold back even though it was obvious she was losing control. It only gave him ammunition to tease her harder, because when she lost it, it was almost enough for him, too.

She groaned in frustration and reached down to rub her clit herself, but he quickly pushed her hand away. Before she could protest, he lowered his mouth to her and sucked gently on the swollen nub, garnering a loud, uninhibited moan. He did it again, this time using his fingers to part her. He flicked his tongue across her clit as he pushed the tip of the silencer into her, feeling her thighs twitch in response. He smiled as he slid the silencer a little deeper, pushing himself up to watch her writhe in pleasure.

"God, Eric," she whispered, her hand finding his cheek and staying there.

As he continued pumping the silencer in and out of her, he moved himself up to lavish attention to her breasts, kissing every patch of skin along the way. She felt like she was on fire. He was touching her everywhere all at once and it was too much for her brain to handle. Before she could get her release, he pulled the gun away from her and placed it on the night table, replacing the silencer with his fingers. She was wet with desire and he shivered at the thought.

She pulled him up, wanted him level with her face, and he complied, crawling up along her body, allowing his hands to take liberties with where they explored. Hers fumbled for the waistband of his boxers, and though disoriented from what he was doing to her, they clumsily felt their way inside.

She took him into her hands and began stroking slowly, and he instinctively ground his hips against her fingers. She sped up, clenching her hands around him over and over again, and he groaned loudly.

"Calleigh," he grunted urgently, "if you keep doing that, it could get embarrassing."

She smiled and released him, hands finding his back and pulling him down to kiss him, tongues tangling lazily.

He made an attempt to remove his boxers with his lips still on her, but became distracted when he felt her tongue gently probing his mouth. With her help, he finally managed to slip off and toss aside his boxers. He pulled away slightly and moved a hand down between their bodies to roll the tip of his cock against her clit, once, twice, and he had to close his eyes as the sensation became too much for him. She made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and whimper, and that was more than enough encouragement for him to push the head of his cock into her. Immediately, she took in a sharp breath and her fingertips curled against his back.

He began a slow thrust, his hips rolling expertly against hers. He groaned at his own actions and opened his eyes to look at her, at her response. He loved watching her like this, raw and uninhibited, and though it had taken him a little while to learn what she liked, how she liked it, he didn't remember ever having sex this good. It felt so real; she made him feel invincible, and he couldn't even come close to describing how amazing that was.

"Whose gun is better?" he growled, more out of sheer arousal than anything else.

Calleigh ignored him, stubbornly refusing to humor him, holding out because there was nothing more amazing than Eric Delko working hard to please her. Even when he was exhausted, the sex was great, but when he went the extra mile, it could blow her mind.

He ground his hips roughly against hers, eliciting a moan she tried hard to hold back. He smiled and evened the pace, moving excruciatingly slow against her. "You want your gun back?" he teased again, watching her eyes close as she pressed against his butt cheeks in a futile attempt at momentum.

"Stop talking," she groaned, lifting her hips to the best of her small frame's ability.

He reached behind him to grab her forearms, and he pinned her wrists down on either side of her head. Her protests were forgotten when he picked up the pace and began filling her deeply, every second thrust accompanied by a soft kiss along her jaw line.

"Oh," she whispered, "Eric, that's so good."

He caught her lips with his own and kissed her, moved smoothly against her, wanting to see how many different noises he could elicit from her. He felt himself building up, and he buried his face into her neck, tightened his grip around her wrists and prepared himself. But he wanted to hear her first, wanted to make sure the experience was as perfect for her as it was for him.

"Calleigh," he muttered encouragingly against her neck, hips grinding in rhythm. He grunted. "I'm so close."

Her breath hitched. Another thrust, deep, and her face clenched for a moment as she went over the edge, hard. His name left her throat, low and elongated, as she tightened around him, bringing him over as well. He continued plunging into her, his hand reaching down to help her ride out her orgasm, and she moaned his name again.

He slowed his movements to a full stop and tried desperately to catch his breath. She did the same, and when her head cleared a little, her arm struggled against his grip. He loosened his hold and saw red marks across her wrist, where he had squeezed too tightly. He tenderly brought her hand to his lips and kissed the bruise.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, running a thumb over her pulse point. He kissed her wrist again.

She shook her head and smiled. "It's okay."

He planted one last kiss on her wrist before rolling off her and resting his head next to hers on her pillow. He grinned and brushed his lips across her shoulder. "I'm thinking I should leave for another week and catch you playing with your handgun again," he teased.

She laughed. "You're never leaving me again," she said coyly. She rolled to her side to face him and leaned in to kiss his nose. "I didn't give you a spare key so you could show up in the middle of the night and take advantage of me."

He smiled and sneaked his hands down to pull her closer. He loved feeling her warmth against his skin. "You're so perfect," he sighed, closing his eyes as she snuggled up to him.

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around him. "You're such a suck-up."

He tightened his grip. "I couldn't stop thinking about you all week," he mumbled, already drifting off.

She smiled and watched him lose his battle against sleep. He was already snoring lightly when she kissed him softly and whispered, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, either."


End file.
